


Have You Ever Heard the Wolf Cry to the Blue Corn Moon

by waldorph



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Blanket Permission, Future Fic, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2773652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waldorph/pseuds/waldorph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake babysits Gina and Charles's kids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have You Ever Heard the Wolf Cry to the Blue Corn Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gyzym](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyzym/gifts).



> I literally could not help using that title. It's been the draft title since I started writing this and I just couldn't help using it. I feel Gina would approve.

Jake loves the niblings. From the word go, as soon as he found out that a whole pack of nieces and nephews could be called niblings, he was sold on the idea. And sure, Charles and Gina's kids are, by default, terrible, Jake loves them the way only family can. It's nice, seeing Nana's apartment full of children who can't stand each other, and though he and Gina obviously aren't blood relatives, they kind of are because of the thing with the blood in eighth grade, which now Jake thinks about it they probably should have used like, strawberry syrup or something. 

Topaz-South, Green Mistletoe, and Strawberry are great kids. And as their godfather and uncle, Jake obviously is in charge of making sure that they don't get beat up, which is why he calls them South, Missy, and Berry (The Berry thing he feels bad about because it means she's Berry Boyle, but by the time he realized it it'd been too late). These nicknames have, luckily, stuck, and since Brooklyn is awash with hipster douchebags, their names don’t even really register. The point is that Jake loves his niblings a lot. And that's why he's babysitting them. Three kids under ten, how hard can it be? Terry had twins. At least, you know, this isn't that. 

"The wolf really speaks to me, though," South is saying, playing with his rat-tail braid that Gina insists is South expressing himself and Jake just thinks is horrible, terrible, tonight he’s going to sneak into South’s room and cut that thing off and burn it for the good of humanity. “Just to me, you know? I hear it howl--"

"You live in Brooklyn," Jake points out. "there are no wolves in Brooklyn."

"I hear them," South says, and somehow he manages to look high as a kite and Jake suppresses his instinct to demand a urine sample. He can get that tonight, too. There's a bowl dedicated to just that prank on the top left shelf in the second cabinet in the kitchen. "I hear them in my soul.”

Jake just stares at him and then figures arguing with an 8 year old is just not even worth it, so he throws Gina's wolf blanket over South's head and goes into the other room where the girls are really way too quiet.

"--But!" Berry is saying, here big eyes in full Charles Puppy Dog mode. Jake glances behind him and wonders if he can make an exit. Missy, who has spent way too much time with Rosa, just gives her a long look. Berry holds up the plastic food with the kind of earnestness that only a three year old can muster. "We need to EVALUATE it," she says, lower lip wobbling. 

"Gross," Missy decides. "I want real food. Uncle Jake. We want real food. Can we have pizza?" 

Missy, well- obviously as a good Uncle Jake doesn't have favorites, but Missy is like, his unofficial dirty littl--no wait that's not, he—obviously she’s not his dirty little secret because that’s gross and weirdly implies—anyway, no. Missy's his favorite.

They order pizza and Berrry complains about the mouth feel and the fact that she can tell that they used canned tomatoes in the sauce and that she understands that it's February, but really. That's what canning is for, Uncle Jake. It is, frankly, beyond adorable and Jake wonders if this is what Charles was like as a child. He is literally seconds from propping his chin in his fists and staring at her. She is maybe the cutest.

"Wolves don't eat pizza," South mutters, picking off all of the vegetables and putting them into piles on the table around his plate instead of on it like a civilized human. Missy is staring bleakly ahead, and Jake thinks, this isn't normal. For a five year old. Five year olds shouldn't have a thousand yard stare. He's going to have to talk to Gina and Charles about keeping her away from Holt. And Rosa. Because seriously this is all kinds of messed up and he's starting to feel a little intimidated.

"Wolves will eat anything," Missy says after a good ten minutes have gone by, and Jake almost misses it because Berry is still rhapsodizing about the benefits of canning in her toddler voice. "They're scavengers."

"They are a proud and majestic creature," South snaps back, starting to vibrate with rage. Gina used to do that. Jake used to have this theory if you got her mad enough she'd like, vibrate off her chair and across the room. 

Turned out that no, she did not. Jake still had faint scars on the back of his hand from where she'd clawed him.

It's Saturday, which means it's 9:30 bedtime for everyone, because despite what Amy and Rosa and Holt and Terry say, Gina and Charles are very into equality amongst their children. Jake thinks it's got something to do with the fact that Charles was never anyone's favorite, which meant that someone else always was, and he never wants one of his kids to feel that way. Which makes Charles a great dad, and Jake would probably be a disaster of a father so he's gonna follow the house rules. 

Except that means that he has an hour and a half to kill. 

Right. He throws the dishes in the sink and the box in the trash so Charles can see that he bought Domino's (it's the small things in life). 

"Who wants to play PoliceAwesomes and FireJerks?" he asks, and the kids all shriek their agreement. 

PoliceAwesomes and FireJerks mostly consists of them all running around trying to "solve" a "case" which, because the niblings are small, changes every five seconds. Mostly it involves hurling insults and playing dirty, which this time only involves three ripped throw pillows, one scratch in the wall, and two broken picture frames. By the end South looks...well, feral, for lack of better word, and Jake sends the girls into the bathroom first. South seems like one of those wild animals that might catch a glimpse of its reflection and lose its mind. 

"It's a full moon tonight," South announces abruptly, standing at the window. His little hands are curved into a claw-like fashion and Jake nods. 

"Yeahhhh, okay," he says. "Go get ready for bed." 

He gets them all into bed by 9:38, which the Holt-voice in his head insists is EIGHT MINUTES LATE, PERALTA. Jake makes a face at the Holt-in-his-head and then hears rustling behind South's door. He readies himself for battle, which consists of a Google search of what will incapacitate but not kill a werewolf. He loves South. He just doesn't--well, hey, maybe he does want to be a werewolf. He could be werewolf cop. It might be--

"A;LSKDFJRUOOOOOOOOO," South screeches. 

"Shut the fuck up!" Missy shouts, banging on the wall between their rooms. 

"Language!" Jake says, and then is immediately horrified with himself. 

He decides being a werewolf isn't for him. He grabs a silver ladle from Charles' good dining set. Just to be safe, and turns on the TV, strategically moving the chair so that if South bursts force like an ugly man-beast-child he’ll be prepared.

“I’m just, like, really unhappy,” a hot wife of a place is saying earnestly on the TV. 

“Preach,” Jake mutters, and settles in. 

Around 11:30, Missy comes out to get a glass of water. She looks at the rearranged living room and the ladle in Jake’s hands and rolls her eyes. She comes back out dragging a chair. 

“I usually use this,” she says, patting it meaningfully. Jake stares at her, then at the chair. Her door closes firmly and there’s a scraping noise like she’s pushed something large in front of the door. 

Gina and Boyle show up in what Jake is refusing to acknowledge is post-sex dishevelment because when he thinks about he he wants to die. A lot. He's supportive, and they're weirdly happy, but god it's so terrible to think about them boning down. 

So the fact that they fall into the room and Charles’s necktie is _missing_ is horrifying. 

"Hi, guys! So the kids were great, they ate everything and nobody killed each other but--” he breaks off as South let out another horrifying sound. “Does he do that in his _sleep?”_ Jake demands, and Charles nodded proudly. “Yeah, no," Jake says brightly. "See you at work on Monday! Okay then! Byeeeee!"

He beats a hasty exit before they notice that Jake moved the armoire in the hall to block South’s door. Jake had the other two children to think of, and it’s his job to make those tough calls. 

As the elevator door slides shut he hears two voices raised in wolf howls and thinks: _never again._

**Author's Note:**

>  **Blanket Permission:** go ahead and translate, make podfic, rework the fic, or do whatever other transformative work you can think of. If the work is hosted on another site, drop me a comment or email and I'll put a link in the story notes!
> 
> [twitter:](https://twitter.com/waldorph) for unfiltered me || [tumblr:](http://waldorph.tumblr.com/) less about me, more about the pretty gifsets and art


End file.
